Thursday, April 11, 2013

A letter by Thomas Jefferson to his daughter Patsy, formally named Martha after her mother, who had died in the fall of 1782.

November 28, 1783

MY DEAR PATSY — After four days journey I arrived here without any accident and in as good health as when I left Philadelphia. The conviction that you would be more improved in the situation I have placed you than if still with me, has solaced me on my parting with you, which my love for you has rendered a difficult thing. The acquirements which I hope you will make under the tutors I have provided for you will render you more worthy of my love, and if they cannot increase it they will prevent it's diminution. Consider the good lady who has taken you under her roof, who has undertaken to see that you perform all your exercises, and to admonish you in all those wanderings from what is right or what is clever to which your inexperience would expose you, consider her I say as your mother, as the only person to whom, since the loss with which heaven has been pleased to afflict you, you can now look up; and that her displeasure or disapprobation on any occasion will be an immense misfortune which should you be so unhappy as to incur by any unguarded act, think no concession too much to regain her good will. With respect to the distribution of your time the following is what I should approve.

from 8. to 10 o'clock practise music.
from 10. to 1. dance one day and draw another
from 1. to 2. draw on the day you dance, and write a letter the next day.
from 3. to 4. read French.
from 4. to 5. exercise yourself in music.
from 5. till bedtime read English, write etc.

Little Reads

Little Reads

The best way to keep chemical attacks from reoccurring is to finally use measures that the UN put in place to prosecute people whom we suspect have perpetrated them, suggests a doctor who is working in Syria. He also describes the wearisome repetition of ultimately senseless questions from journalists after each chemical attack within the past five years.

I wish journalists would stop asking such questions because the world, which didn’t care about what happened then, will not care about what will happen tomorrow or the day after tomorrow.

[...]

“What happened on the day after the massacre?” the journalist continues. There is a span of several hours that I can’t remember. It seems that my mind has tried not to remember those twelve hours. It is very painful to remember that day. So please stop asking me about it.

I first heard of Madame de Lafayette's column when President Nicolas Sarkozy lamented that her novel Princesse de Clèves was read by reluctant school pupils like his younger self.

Now a second one of de Lafayette's works has gained a political significance. La Princesse de Montpensier is entering France's literature baccalaureate programme to bring an end to a long absence of female authors.

Under this Guardian article, the readers' comments, while sometimes harsh or arbitrary, are also insightful and witty.

(But I don't feel drawn to either of Madame de Lafayette's books after reading these descriptions.)

A sober, but blunt and subliminally angry, look at the major decisions, in their style and in their substance, that the current United States government has taken since its inauguration in January.

The writer shares and illustrate the far-ranging unease with which Americans see the new (dis)order in Washington, Americans even in the political circles of which the Administration is usually a semi-symbiotic element.

Her very first lines are, to borrow the language of naval warfare, a 'shot across the bows':

Donald Trump’s substance-free approach to governing may be comfortable for him but it’s caused his presidency big problems. To take the most prominent example, the health care bill: